Lips Of An Angel
by ilostmyhorse
Summary: 2 years go by without any contact whatsoever until your phone rings. "Honey, why're you calling me so late?" Inspired by the song of the same title.
1. Chapter 1

_Lips Of An Angel - Hinder watch?v=QEYbn9m74OA_

_LISTEN (on repeat if you're a slow reader) AND READ (speed up your reading if your a fast listener... errr?)_

_I don't own anything._

* * *

**Lips Of An Angel**

11:24pm

Your phone rings. It's that ringtone that you set years ago.

It hasn't rung that tune in a while and you don't know why it would be now.

You've done so well to get over that part of your life, to move on from it. It's been a work in progress… for the last 2 years. And for it to be ringing now baffles you.

You second guess it. You just stare at the screen. It's probably just a pocket dial.

You answer anyway.

You don't say anything, you just listen.

"…Hello? San, are you there?"

You hold your silence.

It's the first time you've heard her voice since Mr Schue's wedding 2 years ago.

"Brittany," You sigh, "It's late."

It's quiet for a long time and your brow creases when a shaky sigh permeates through the ear piece.

"I know, San. I just…" It's quiet, but you hear it. You hear her sniff and it stings you right in the heart. "I just wanted to talk to you."

You don't know what to say. It's been 2 long years since she told you to move on and now that you have, suddenly she calls you out of the blue. Your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you try to shake the confused emotions swimming inside.

And you hear it. She snivels once more, twice again, a third time. The sound of her poorly muffled whimpers make your own eyes prickle and you just can't…

You don't want to be feeling that sting in your heart anymore. You don't want to be tearing up at the sound of her crying. You don't want to be worrying about her happiness and what you can do to make her feel better.

It all hurts too much. Because you think you still might….

You whisper softly, "Brittany, hey, what's wrong?" Silence. "Look, I can't really talk, my… My girlfrie-."

Her sobs come out choked and unrestrained then and you feel your heart clench painfully. You sit in silence, just listening to her cry and you fight hard to hold in your own tears. You sit and you patiently wait until finally she calms.

You decide to humour her, if only for a while.

"H-how are you, Brittany?"

You ask her about college and about dance. You ask about her parents and her sister. You ask about Sugar and you ask about Marley and you hope that she's kept in touch with them because you didn't and while you don't regret it, you do miss them a lot. You miss her family too.

She tells you she got into college. She says that she really loves it. She's majoring in photography and your heart soars. You always knew she could do it. It almost killed you, come graduation time in senior year, when she told you she wouldn't be walking across that stage with you.

And you blamed yourself for that.

What with all of your 'coming out' dramas and your hunger for the spotlight that you so desperately desired and never got when you were in New Directions, thus creating your own glee club all together. Your want for fame… All of this was for you and she was always right there behind you. The focus was on you. All of her attention was on you. So much of her was put into making sure you got what you wanted, that along the way you both had forgotten about her.

So yeah, you blame yourself for her not graduating.

You're surprised though when she says she's here, in New York.

"New York School of Visual Arts, San." She tells you. You choke on the air in your lungs.

Because she's _here. _In New York.

"I also got accepted into NYU and Julliard for dance. And the same place as Mike too. And UCLA, like Mercedes," You feel your whole body simmer with pride with each college she lists, "But you know…" She trails off slightly. Your brow furrows. You don't know. You say as much.

"You know, San." She starts. "Dancing is fun, and I love it. But that's not what I who I want to be. Like, dancing… yeah you're doing the moves and it's inspiring and it's beautiful and you look beautiful doing it. But…"

"But, what?"

"But they're someone else's beautiful moves. Do you know how hard it is to get a job as a choreographer? It takes years to get to show your perception of grace or anger or, or… love."

You cringe. She doesn't give you time to say anything.

"You're showing people someone else's idea of beauty. I want to show the world what I think on my own terms. I want to show everyone what I think grace and anger and especially what love is to me. I want to show the world my beauty." She finishes. And to say you're proud of her at this point is an understatement. There are no appropriate words you can string together to say how you feel.

"You do already." You whisper.

"Not like that." She echoes back just as softly.

You sit in silence for a while, content just to hear each other's light breathing over the phone line. It's familiar and it's beautiful. And it hurts painfully so. You hear shuffling in the room next door and you know your girlfriend is moving around in her office, the tell-tale sound of a cabinet door sliding shut tells you just that and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

Guilt. Like you're cheating.

Funny thing is you don't know exactly who you feel like you're cheating on here.

You squeeze your eyes shut once more and clear your throat. You tell her how happy you are for her. You tell her how you always dreamed she'd make it. Not just out of Lima, but out here, in the real world. You knew she would be successful.

You tell her how you dreamed of a smaller version of her, just the other day, and how this pint sized Brittany looked exactly like her with her long blonde hair, lithe frame, perfect smile, smooth creamy skin with a healthy dose of freckles. She was also leaping and bounding and twirling like I imagine Brittany used to when she first learned ballet.

She lets out a quite giggle and tells you you're describing a 6 year old her. Your laugh matches hers, almost.

You finish retelling your dream though. You tell her how, yes, pint size Brittany was indeed the exact same as her 6 year old former self. That is except for the deep brown eyes. The thick curls. The long dark lashes. And the nasty habit of spitting out furious Spanish curses and sentences at anything and everything.

You smile so large when you hear her full laughter floating into your ear. Your dimples make an appearance for the first time in a long time. You can't help but giggle at her silliness.

You ask her, "What's so funny?"

This brings on a whole new wave of giggles and you can't help but whine at her. Eventually she calms down enough.

"San, you just described our child." A few leftover giggles escape.

I feel my whole body freeze over. Because…

Our child.

_Our child._

Ours.

She seems to notice her slip up too and suddenly the tension returns. You sigh. She sighs. Silence follows.

x

You don't want to know if she's still with him. You've been putting off this thought throughout the phone call, and if you're being honest with yourself, you've been putting it off for the past 2 years.

And over that time, you've done all you can to avoid any type of interaction with the couple. No Facebook, no emails or texts, you only went back to Lima for family things and you refused to talk to anyone other than Rachel and Kurt until finally you felt like you had moved on.

You've been ignoring that thought, and you really don't want to ask but you know you have to.

"Does… Does Sam know you're talking to me?" You ask and it's so awkward that you stumble through the words. She knows what you're really asking though.

You hear her sharp intake of breath and you don't know what it means.

"I-… He-… No."

"Oh. Uhm, well I… I don't want you to get in trouble so you better go-."

"I broke up with him." She interrupts.

You heart leaps out of your chest at the same time it sinks low into your stomach. "W-what?"

She sighs. "I broke up with him."

You ask her when.

"Before graduation. A little before all of my acceptance letters came." She whispers.

You don't realise you're crying until your sniffling into your clenched fist.

"Oh." You reply with fragmented breath.

This is the moment you've been wishing for, praying for, for over 2 years. And finally it's there. And this is the moment you should be celebrating, and rejoicing and asking to meet her asap because she's here _in New York_ and this has been your home for the last 2 years now but…

But...

"Does your gir-… Does she know you're talking to me?" Her voice squeaks in that way that I know she's holding in tears.

It makes mine flow faster.

"She doesn't have a clue." You whisper.

For 2 years you'd been wishing she'd say those words to you. 2 years you'd waited for her to ring you, turn up on your doorstep and say…

'_I'm here. I'm yours. You're mine. _I love you_.' _

2 years.

And now here, she tells you that she left him over 18 months ago and you know that you're happy about it. You're actually fucking ecstatic. But you also know that you're so broken inside, so afraid of being rejected again. And because of this a loud sob spills past your lips, followed by a chain of whimpers.

"Britt…" you cry.

"I know, San."

The sound of her sadness breaks your heart again and again and you feel your face raw with the amount of tears that you're crying.

"So many times I wish she was you, Britt…"

"I'm so sorry, Santana, "She cries, "I'm so, so sorry." She repeats over and over like a mantra. It's evident to you now, that she yearns for you in the same way you do her.

"Santana…."

You sniff, "You don't know how good it is to hear you say my name again, Brittany." You admit through your tears.

She tells you that she does, that she knows exactly how good it is.

"Is this goodbye?"

You cover the mouth piece with your hand as a particularly violent sob wracks your body entirely. Is this goodbye? Do you want this to be goodbye? Are you ever going to say goodbye?

Did you ever really move on?

No.

Never.

You tell her so.

"I never want to say goodbye, Britt. But…"

"I know, baby."

Your breath hitches at the term. It sounds so sweet. And you know you're never going to say goodbye to her. And you know you want to hear her call you that again.

And again.

"You make it hard to be faithful, B."

"The feeling has always been mutual, San."

You smile ever so slightly, so weakly.

You both come down from your emotional highs and bask in the content silence. You don't know what will come of this, or what you want to come of this.

You just….

12:16am

"Britt… Honey, why're you calling me so late?"

She chuckles, more to herself you think.

"Because, I'm still in love with you, San." She whispers.

* * *

_**Hate it or love it.**_

**_Cheers, big ears!_**


	2. Chapter 2

_So anyway, you're all little crazies and I'm pretty keen to keep writing if that's what everyone wants? And by everyone I mean all 4 of you ;) Bear in mind that I'm new to FF so I have no idea what I'm doing :/_

_Also, just gonna say it now, I'M SUPER BUSY WITH UNI AND HOCKEY AND COACHING AND STUFF... sheeiiiiit son! So updates can be few and far between but like I said, I'm down._

_Also, also, in light of recent events (aka THE MONTH OF DOOM) I just wanna say, LIVE LONG AND SHIP ON, Brittana- Jammers! Don't stop believin' and all of that... I want to believe that good things come to those who wait._

_Basically, this is a lil summin' to say that I've been heaps busy of late but yes, I am willing to continue with this, all I ask is for your patience and kindness :)_

xx CJ

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**Lips Of An Angel**

_"Because, I'm still in love with you, San."_

_X_

It's been a week since that phone call.

1 week

7 days

168 hours

10080 minutes

604800 seconds

You count the seconds, and the minutes and the hours and the days and you realise that the time that passes doesn't take away the buzzing in your brain, the swoon of your heart and the painful ache that tremors your body because…

Because…

_"Because, I'm still in love with you, San."_

You're mad, and you're so elated, and you're desolate, and you're not sure if you should climb upon the rooftops with some exaggerated declaration of happiness or cry yourself into oblivion.

Because you don't love her anymore.

No. That's not right at all.

Because if you're being honest with yourself you'd admit that you will always love her. You will always be in love with her too.

Fact of the matter is though; you don't _want _to love her anymore and that kills you. You don't know if you can handle that kind of emotional turmoil. Because your heart…

Your heart, it's fragile at best and you've fought with everything you are to be here right now...

And now you're in a relationship. And it's a relationship that isn't _her._

But she's…. She's….

She's Brittany.

And when you're faced with the facts, you know you will always, _always _be in love with…

1 week

7 days

168 hours

10080 minutes

604800 seconds

And counting… No more.

No more, because it's _that _ringtone.

'_Britt 3_'

Just like déjà vu, you second guess it. You're torn between answering as fast as you can and throwing your phone at the wall, especially when you see the screen.

A brunette and a blonde, and they look so happy and so, so in love.

_So in love._

A brunette and a blonde, with lips curled into a smile pressed to that dimple that's set deep in tan cheeks.

Happy. In love.

You and Brittany.

And she's calling you again, right now. You're hesitant. You don't know if this is a good idea, her calling you. Because…

_"Because, I'm still in love with you, San."_

And it's not fair. It's just not fair. You worked hard to get where you are. You worked hard to get over her, to get over that part of your life. You did so well to move on, from the pain, the hurt, the rejection and Lima. 2 years of hard work, of lost friends and strained family and finally you find yourself in a relationship and a life that you're comfortable with.

And it's not fair. It's not fair that you worked that hard and you lost what you lost and you _stopped loving her _to move on completely and now,

_"…I'm still in love with you, San."_

And you hate with everything that you are, that she says that, and that you believe it, and that your heart simultaneously breaks and skips a beat. You blame her for that, and you hate yourself for blaming her, and you hate yourself for even thinking that,

Because she's Brittany.

And when it's Brittany, everything is...

Your throat feels thick, your hands clammy. And when you take a deep breath it's shaky.

You raise a trembling hand to your forehead and squeeze your eyes shut.

Because when you speak, your voice is watery and full of tears and,

"Britt-Britt?" You whimper.

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**Cheers, big ears.**


	3. Filler: In the Mourning

_Kinda just a filler chap._

_In The Mourning - Paramore (FUELED BY RAMEN 15TH ANNIVERSARY CONCERT LIVE)_

_Listen, listen, listen! post/55517795287_

_**It's strange how much of an impact one person or a group of people can have on you, even if you haven't spoken to them in your life. Glee has helped me to be more accepting and a more considerate person. Not because of the episodes, but the actual people themselves. For that I cannot thank the cast members enough. Rest easy, Cory Monteith.**_

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**Lips of An Angel**

When you broke up with her you thought that it would finally set free from all the pain; all the longing and loneliness that she always felt when you were away.

She was free.

And then she could do whatever she wanted.

That's how you saw it.

X

So for 2 days, 2 whole days, you spent wracking your brain for the best solution. And every single time it was the same conclusion.

2 days of contemplating.

48 hours of deliberating.

2880 minutes of confusion.

172800 seconds of dread.

It broke your heart like you never thought you'd ever feel.

And it was inevitable;

a lifetime of hell.

You had to break up with the love of your life.

_You had to break up with Brittany S. Pierce_.

You cried yourself to sleep the night before. Your heart beat working overtime when the panic consumed you entirely.

X

It was a given that you'd be miserable, but…

You had to let it go.

_Let her go._

Because that's what you do when you love somebody, right? If you love somebody, you put their needs first.

And what she needed was to not feel sad and hurt and… and…

And not feel like she was left behind.

Break up with her, you thought, that way it's like she wasn't left behind because there wasn't anyone _to _leave her behind.

Because, you know, that's what you're supposed to do when you love somebody. Well, that's what they say in the movies anyway.

While you mourn the loss of your true love, you'll repeat the same phase over and over…

_'It gets better, you'll be okay, it'll get better.'_

You'll be sad; your heart will ache, consumed with numbness and fear of the unknown,

But that's okay, because she will be happy.

Right?

X

Three months of moping later you find yourself dropped out of college, three damn months of time wasted on hiding, because you were too damn proud to admit that you couldn't handle it, being away from her.

And over that time, she found another love.

That hurt, you will admit. It hurt like a bitch. But you knew it would happen, she's _Brittany_. Heck, you told her it was okay.

What gets you though is that you heard it from Tina.

That damn near killed you.

Best friends? Didn't really feel like it…

_"You're my best friend."_

_"Of course I love you, I do."_

_"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in this world."_

_"I love you, too."_

"Bram."

X

New York bound and nothing but family tying you down to Lima, you thought that finally things were looking up for you.

Santana Lopez was rising from her – albeit somewhat self-inflicted – heartbroken ashes, taking the first steps to rebuild herself, and what better than the city that never sleeps.

You, however, became a zombie of your former self. Vicious and spiteful were you words, but lacked the sharp playfulness they once were laced with.

Because when the love of your life chooses a _boy_ over you, _again, _it's not something you take to lightly.

The _what _and _who _and _why _of New York wasn't something taken lightly.

And it was easier to engross yourself into the _what _and _who _and _why_ of New York.

Not one person asked, not Rachel, nor Kurt.

And you never talked about it.

As far as you're concerned you had to let it go, and if nobody spoke about it, about _her, _then it doesn't exist.

Disconnection. That was your solution. The only things tying you to Lima were your parents and your room mates.

And slowly, she was no longer the first thought at the forefront of your mind.

She was like a fading echo.

X

It was a given you'd be miserable but…

It gets better, you'll be ok.

It was a given you'd miss her but…

It's for the best. For her.

It was a given…

You'd never forgive yourself.

X

Those first few months were the hardest, especially when it came time for graduation.

You so desperately wanted to know; to just pick up the phone and call her and see how she's going, if she's on track to pass,

Is she still with…

Because you're…

No. You never let your mind fully process that thought.

Not ever.

But it took everything in you not to ask about her.

It took all the years of self-control you'd learned in your life to erase the series of numbers your fingers would blindly type, put your phone down, and walk away.

Needless to say, the little willpower you possessed didn't stop your wandering mind from resurrecting the memories of _her_ which you hastily buried.

X

The average human desires to synchronise daily activities with chronological order, thus a unified system was established.

The funny thing about time is that it can be measured by clocks, watches, the sun, stars, seasons and calendars.

So what measurement of time were you supposed to use to figure out how long heartbreak lasts?

Because clocks and watches, they count the seconds and the minutes and the hours.

The sun and the stars? They tell you when it's a new day, a new night.

Calendars and seasons let you know how many days have passed; weeks, months, years.

And at the end of it all, seconds and years all feel like a lifetime when it's your hear that's concerned.

And time lets your mind wander through uncharted waters.

Sometimes you wondered if she knew just how much she meant to you.

Sometimes you wondered if she knew how much you loved her.

Sometimes you wondered if she really ever _loved _you,

Or loved the idea of _fixing _you.

And with those thoughts you fell apart.

Months passed,

A year,

Then two.

A lifetime.

'And time goes by so slowly,  
And time can do so much,  
Are you still mine?'

And as time slipped away,

So did the memories.

So did your will to hold out hope.

X

Can time heal all wounds? Or does it simply apply a sticky plaster to cover it over?

Temporary comfort?

Does time make you ignorant of the choices you make? Does it eat away the guilt that eats away at you?

False reassurance?

In time, can you forgive?

Forget?

Accept?

Only time can tell.

X

_Well I've been afraid of changing  
because I built my life around you  
but time makes you bolder  
Children get older  
and I'm getting older too_

_So take this love and take it down  
Yeah, and if you climb a mountain and you turn around  
and if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills  
well the landslide brought me down_

_Well the landslide brought me down._

* * *

**Just a list of things that have happened since the last update:**

**1. Selected in U21's for national tournament... had training.**

**2. Club team made finals... had training.**

**3. Selected in NHL team... STILL HAVE training.**

**4. Exams and assignments... does it ever stop!?**

**5. Coaching, coaching, coaching!**

**I can't **cking wait for hockey to be over. I'm so tired!**

**Cheers, big ears!**


End file.
